The Bar: Gallagher’s
The Address 97 West Boylston St
The price: 3:75 (cheapest so far, you pay for what you get, but still it was under four bucks for a 12 ounce gin and tonic, you got a problem with that?)
Did they ask me if I wanted a lime: No. Because he didn’t have any to offer. The friendly guy behind the bar said, “Now I can’t give you a lime, because we don’t have any. There is a lime shortage. Can’t afford it. It’s in the paper, the T and G had a thing about it. Its like three dollars for two limes. The weather was terrible in Florida, they have no limes. All the bars around are going to be hurting for limes.” This I didn’t know about, but boy how he told me. He spoke with speed and conviction, I was going to believe him that there are no limes in Worcester, damn you global warming!!!!
What was the type of gin: The bartender asked me if I wanted Tanqueray or well and I said well would do.
What was the gin and tonic like: It had a lot of ice and I don’t know if the well gin was flavorless or that what I like about gin and tonics is the lime, but man it was flavorless. Had a kick. It just had nothing that made me pleased in the mouth when I drank. It was 3.75 and that means it don’t need to taste like nothing but a buzz. It did that fine.
The Joint: This is a small place. Smaller than my living room. There is a bar with 10 or so stools and three tables. That’s it. Don’t have to worry about that evil bar kitchen infecting the gestalt of the place, there’s no room. It has two Bud neon signs in the place. One is a Bud Man neon sign, and that means hip cred. There are two flat screens giving Keno and another bar gambling game. There is sports on, the Sox were playing. It is brightly lit, though that might be because it was a slow Wednesday night, and it is nice to be at a bar where there is the local paper, and wonder of wonders, you have enough light to read it.
General Impressions: While you read this, sing to yourself the Joe Walsh song, “Life’s been good to me so far,” because that’s one of the songs I heard there and that is how I felt about being there. The bar’s been good to me so far. There were three other people here on the eight o’clock Wednesday night, but it didn’t feel empty. There was a guy with a beer and a whiskey and a couple, who knew the bartender’s name (or as we call them, regulars). They seemed to be having a swell time.
The music was loud and classic. Classic Rock! You have to write Classic Rock in capitals, because it is its own State of Mind. I walked in and there was Neil Young’s Rockin the Free World (the g missing in the word Rocking for a sense of irony) and I felt warm and comforted. By the time I had my drink well in hand, the song was now the epic “Life’s Been Good to Me So Far.” The guy in the couple went up to the juke box machine The woman of the couple spent the time he was away silently singing along to the song. I didn’t know I was a lip reader, but I am sure she was silently saying, “My Masarati goes 185, I lost my license, and now I don’t drive.” During the momentous guitar break, she was keeping the beat with her hand and duck walking her head back and forth. It’s a hell of a song. He came back and she stopped this personal performance, and I was upset, she should have kept on going, the hell with the man. Just sing along and have a great time whether the old man is around or not. Love your Classic Rock.
When what I heard next from the jukebox machine was Kid Rock, I knew the getting out was rapidly approaching. I have done eight stops in this tour of every Worcester bar and now I have come across Kid Rock’s dulcet tones twice, is this a harbinger of future doom? I hope not.
Will I come back: Yeah, not a strong affirmative, but I liked it here. It was pleasant, it was comfortable. When I left, the bartender thanked me for coming. How odd is that? I could see myself going here when I was single. This was a place to kill time in. This would be a great place to sit by myself and be sad and morose. I could be happily lonely in this joint. It is small enough to feel safe. And let’s be fair. under four bucks for a cocktail. Sign me up.